


Red

by Sutured_Sentiment



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Hurt Barry, Hurt Oliver, Injury, M/M, Olivarry, Protective Barry Allen, Protective Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10985868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sutured_Sentiment/pseuds/Sutured_Sentiment
Summary: "An angry growl tore through Oliver’s throat and he lunged forward, ignoring the aching of his limbs as he moved. All he cared about was Barry. All he saw was red."





	Red

The world seemed to slow and Oliver’s mind kicked into overdrive as he felt a pair of arms wrap around his torso, acting as a protective barrier. He dimly thought he heard someone shout his name, but it was lost in the sound of the explosion. His feet left the ground as he was propelled through the air. Flying debris cut through his suit into his back. All the air was pushed from his lungs as he slammed hard into a brick wall. Oliver groaned as his head spun and the world was muffled. He looked around dazed as his ears rang. 

A dark form was walking towards a familiar red lump on the ground a few yards away from where he was slumped against the wall. He could taste copper pooling in his mouth. Everything was so _ fuzzy _ . He pressed his face to his palm. Everything  _ hurt _ .

The figure was crouching now, kneeling hunched over the red blur. Tears were stinging at Oliver’s eyes. He struggled to stand, his legs shaking underneath him, and he had to lean heavily against the wall for support. His head gave a painful throb before his senses slowly began to grow more clear. 

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled as he blinked a few times. Black spots danced across his vision. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth against the new wave of dizziness. He didn’t have time for this… did he? He felt like he was forgetting something; something important. But what was it?

Why was he here again?

There had been an explosion…

The dark figure was now a man, and he was straightening back up, his fists grasping tightly at the front of someone’s suit. He was hefting the other form up so that they were face to face. Oliver frowned. There was red. Red. Red…  _ Red.  _ His eyes widened and he shot forward, ignoring the way his legs protested against his weight.

“Don’t touch him!” 

The man was grinning wickedly, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. He had Barry by the front of his suit. Barry’s cowl had been shredded to pieces and his face was streaked with ash. His eyes were closed, lashes standing out stark against what could be seen of his too-pale skin. His head lolled to the side and Oliver felt his heart stutter in his chest.  _ No _ .

Oliver reached behind him for his quiver and cried out as his hand seared with pain. It was definitely broken. And he had no bow.  _ And _ Barry was unconscious… maybe worse. It was shaping up to be a horrible fight. 

The man was laughing and he let Barry’s body drop unceremoniously to the ground. An angry growl tore through Oliver’s throat and he lunged forward, ignoring the aching of his limbs as he moved. All he cared about was Barry. All he saw was  _ red _ . 

He barreled into the man, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a flurry of flying fists and solid kicks. Oliver cried out as a punch was landed on his broken arm. He returned it with a fury. He fought with all he had. ‘ _ Barry. I have to get back to Barry. I need to know he’s okay. _ ’ He took an arrow from his quiver and slashed at the air, narrowly missing the man’s nose. The lunged and dodged and parried each other’s attacks. Oliver lunged forward once more and stabbed his arrow into the man’s chest. He didn’t allow himself the time to revel in the man’s scream and the way his body went limp against him. He rolled the man off of him, not bothering to watch the lights leave his eyes. Oliver felt no sympathy for him as he jumped to his feet and hobbled over as fast as he could to the other fallen hero.

“You  _ better _ be okay. Or I’m going to  _ kill _ you,” he hissed as he fell to his knees beside Barry’s prone form. The cuts and bruises littering what Oliver could see of his skin were already starting to heal, much to his relief. He waited a second on baited breath before he finally saw the reassuring rise and fall of Barry’s chest. A weak laugh bubbled in his chest and he wrapped his arms carefully around the other, bringing him close to his chest and stroking a hand through the short brown hair at the base of Barry’s neck. He took a deep breath. There was the smell of smoke and grease, but also  _ Barry _ . 

“O-Ollie?” He drew back in surprise and found himself staring into a familiar pair of hazel eyes- tired and pained, but  _ alive _ . Barry raised a gloved hand to Oliver’s face, his arm trembling from the effort. He was smiling. 

_ A pair of arms wrapped around him, shielding him from the explosion. His view was obscured by his bright red suit. Red. _

Oliver glared at the man in his arms.

“You’re. An.  _ Idiot _ ,” he snarled, tightening his grip as if he was suddenly going to disappear. Barry laughed, though the movement caused him to hiss in pain. He grinned up at the vigilante.

“It was worth it,” he rasped. 

“Besides. I’ll heal.” The rest of his sentence hung heavily in the air unsaid. ‘ _ You wouldn’t have _ .’ Oliver sighed before slowly standing up. He scooped the other up into his arms, careful so as not to jostle any wounds. Barry didn’t protest.

    “Let’s go,” Oliver said softly. Barry gave a tired nod against his chest and Oliver smiled.  He could feel the hero’s quick heart beat through their suits, and for now, that was all he needed.


End file.
